


The Abduction from Enbarr

by JinjoJess



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: AU, Adventure & Romance, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Kidnapping, Kinda?, OT3, Post-Game(s), Rescue Mission, Some Humor, Wife Squad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2020-12-13 15:43:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21000155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinjoJess/pseuds/JinjoJess
Summary: They'd won the war, and in doing so had earned the right to a peaceful life, or so Edelgard desperately wanted to believe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miss_Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Prince/gifts).

> I'm actually working myself up to a really big AU project about my precious Wife Squad OT3, but in the meantime while I'm trapped at home during Typhoon Hagibis, please enjoy a story that may or may not end up being canon to my AU timeline. Feeling a little off my feed with regards to prose today, but hopefully it's just my imagination.
> 
> Small Things to Note:  
\- I strongly dislike the name Byleth, so I use my in-game name for her, Satomi  
\- I played the game in Japanese, so some elements may be slightly different from the localization (e.g., Dorothea's nicknames)
> 
> Please enjoy!

The library torch had burned down far enough that the candles’ small flames seemed like miniature suns in comparison.

No longer able to reliably read the pages, Edelgard closed the book she’d been reading and stood up from her desk to stretch. The library did not have windows, given how susceptible to weather damage the books were, giving it a strange sense of timelessness.

“Hubert,” Edelgard said, rotating her stiff neck, “what time is it?”

“Sunset was quite some time ago, Your Majesty,” Hubert replied from his post by the doorway. The dim light made it seem as if he were in the process of melting into the shadows. “Several hours, by my count.”

Hubert reached out to tap the hourglass sitting on a small table by the door.

“No wonder I’m so hungry.” Edelgard returned the book to its correct place on the shelf and headed out through the door Hubert opened for her. “Has the rest of the family already had supper?”

“I have been accompanying my lady in the library all evening.”

Edelgard sniffed and repeated the question.

“Not yet. Lady Satomi is waiting impatiently for you at the bottom of the main staircase, and Ms. Arnault has yet to return home from the theater district.”

“Well, in that case I suppose we can eat together, once Dorothea comes home.”

Ignoring the small growl from her stomach, Edelgard smiled. Manuela had often advised them against taking meals so late at night, but if no one had eaten yet, what were they to do? 

A soft wave of warmth caressed Edelgard’s heart at the thought of dining with her wives. It was this exact kind of unremarkable domesticity that she’d been looking forward to after the war. The simple, pure intimacy of sharing a meal together without the looming threat of scheming nobles, or a megalomaniacal church, or a serpentine-themed secret society.

She couldn’t wait to hear about how Dorothea’s new opera was coming along, and about the new training regimen Satomi was putting into place for the Imperial Guard.

They reached the grand staircase, and Edelgard could see that Satomi was indeed pacing around the entryway at the bottom of the stairs.

“Forgive me for keeping you waiting, darling,” Edelgard said, unable to twist her lips out of the smile they’d formed.

“El!” Satomi cried, halting to look up at her.

Edelgard had anticipated an expression that belied barely concealed hunger, but instead, Satomi looked...concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Dorothea’s not home yet,” Satomi said. 

“So I heard. I know you must be famished, so how about I sit with you while you eat and I’ll wait for her to--” 

“She never comes home this late unless it’s a few weeks before a new show opens.” Satomi frowned in that precious way that made her resemble a sad dog. 

“Ah, you’re worried for her.” Edelgard stopped a step from the bottom to allow herself enough height to look Satomi directly in the eye. “Don’t worry, love. Dorothea can handle herself.”

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

Satomi clenched her fists and began to pace again. Edelgard noted that she hadn’t yet taken her sword from her hip.

“Satomi, I think you’re overreacting.”

“I’m going to go look for her.”

It was Edelgard’s turn to frown. She didn’t appreciate this threat to her quiet, domestic evening, especially since there was so little need for concern. The war was over. They’d won, and in doing so had earned the right to a peaceful life.

Edelgard had told herself so many times that she no longer had to worry. She no longer had to obsess over every unsavory possibility and prepare herself accordingly. This was supposed to be her time to relax, to heal, to enjoy the spoils of her years of suffering and toil.

Yet...Satomi’s intuition was often frighteningly accurate.

“Don’t. I’ll have Hubert go.”

“We could both go, Your Majesty. It would allow us to cover more ground.”

“Satomi, it’s late,” Edelgard said, ignoring Hubert’s suggestion. “Come sit with me in the dining room and we’ll wait together, okay?”

“Sorry, El.” Satomi wrapped Edelgard in a firm, warm hug. “I’ll be back soon.”

She stepped back to adjust her sword sheath, then placed her hands on both of Edelgard’s shoulders to give her a kiss. 

In what felt like the blink of an eye, Satomi had left through the front door.

“Shall I assist, Your Majesty?”

“You might as well,” Edelgard mumbled. “Just in case.”

She watched Hubert slip out the door and turned to head to the dining room.

*** * ***

Edelgard sat at the head of the banquet table, idly pushing the rabbit meat around on her plate. Anxiety had all but obliterated her appetite, but she’d still felt compelled to order the kitchen to prepare something.

She’d even had them prepare meals to set in front of Satomi and Dorothea’s seats to her right and left.

Satomi and Hubert had left what felt like ages ago, and there was still no word. Edelgard had lost enough messengers and scouts during the war to know better than to send someone else after them, but the worry was beginning to coil around her heart like one of the Agarthans’ beloved serpents. 

She felt exposed, sitting alone at such a long table. Usually her wives’ presence was enough to distract her from all of the empty seats, and all of the memories of those who had once sat in them. Tonight, however, the distant echo of her siblings’ voices reverberated through the entire dining room.

“This food is getting cold,” she said aloud, just to hear something other than her eldest sister’s admonishments about elbows on the table. “What a waste.”

Edelgard picked up the bell to her left and rang it. It was something she’d seen her father do countless times growing up, but Hubert had eliminated most of the need for it during her own reign. 

“Go fetch my best knights,” Edelgard told the servant who stepped into the room.

The boy bowed and returned moments later with two women in tow.

“A job this late at night can’t be a good sign,” Shamir said, already adjusting her quiver.

“What I have for you is actually not a traditional duty,” Edelgard said.

Ingrid, who had looked half-asleep upon entering, stood up straighter, a red flush spreading across her cheeks.

Edelgard gestured to the empty chairs with meals in front of them. “I want you to join me for dinner. At least until my wives return home.”

“Dinner!” The blush faded from Ingrid’s cheeks, replaced by a wide grin.

“Shamir, you take Satomi’s seat, and Sir Ingrid, you can sit in Dorothea’s place.”

“Are you sure this okay?” Ingrid asked, sitting down in the chair and eyeing the rabbit meat. “This won’t hurt their feelings, will it?”

“If it does, then they have no one but themselves to blame,” Edelgard said, picking up her knife and fork once more.

*** * ***

While it hadn’t been the same, nor what Edelgard really wanted, at least having Shamir and Ingrid’s company had helped stoke her appetite enough to finish the meal.

Following a soak in the tub, taking down her hair, and slipping into a nightgown, Edelgard crawled into bed. Tonight was her turn to be in the middle, so she lay down on her back in the center of the mattress, staring up at the ornate two-headed eagle embroidered onto the canopy. 

It was not anywhere near as bad as being alone at the dining table, but lying in bed without her wives felt wrong. Edelgard shivered and pulled the sheets up to her neck. Without Satomi and Dorothea’s body heat, she could feel every draft pushing its way in through the cracks.

Edelgard grabbed some of the veritable mountain of pillows behind her and pulled them to her left and right. It wasn’t anywhere near the same, but it simulated being cuddled from both sides well enough, she supposed.

How long would it be before they returned?

Edelgard resolved to wait up, despite how tired she was. The second she heard the creak of the front gates of the castle, she’d be on her feet and rushing to the front door.

Yes, she’d have some choice words for them all, for leaving her behind like this on such a chilly night…

“Lady Edelgard.”

“Hubert, report!” Edelgard gasped, sitting up in bed. Sleep clung to her mind and body, pulling her back toward the comfort of the mattress.

So much for waiting up.

“I have news, but I suppose I should let Lady Satomi share it.”

“El!”

Satomi threw herself into the bed, tackling Edelgard and knocking the wind out of her in the process. Under different circumstances, this would have earned her a stern reprimand, but all Edelgard could do now was wrap her arms around Satomi’s neck and hang on.

“Where’s Dorothea?” The relief at being in Satomi’s arms drained. “Didn’t you find her?”

“That’s just it.” Satomi hugged Edelgard tighter, moonlight glinting off what Edelgard could now see was sweat. “She…”

The hitch in Satomi’s voice sent a bolt of panic through Edelgard. It felt a bit like being hit by a thunder spell at close range.

An array of horrific images flashed through Edelgard’s mind. Dorothea face down on the stage of her main theater, soaked in blood and a dagger in her back. Dorothea partially crushed beneath a pile of rubble. Dorothea swinging on the end of a noose. Dorothea coughing up blood and choking.

What had Edelgard said to her when she’d left that morning? She’d been so absorbed in getting to the library, she likely hadn’t been the warmest in her goodbye. Had she told Dorothea she loved her? Did Dorothea know? Or did she breathe her last with a nagging doubt in her heart about Edelgard’s feelings for her?

A pained moan leaked from Edelgard’s throat.

“El,” Satomi whispered, “Dorothea’s been captured.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunny skies here in Japan today.  
Have an update!
> 
> Warning: some unpleasantness wrt Edelgard's trauma in this one

The nightmares were especially intense that night. 

Usually they took the form of hazy images and distant sounds, representing certain memories Edelgard would carve out of her soul if she could. Tonight, however, the scenes were vivid, with tactile and olfactory elements.

She could smell the filth of the dungeon: the sickly sweet scent of vomit; the metallic tang of blood; the thick, rotten odor of urine and feces. 

She could feel things too, things she’d long since tried to press into the darkest corners of her mind: the metal fetters rubbing against her wrists and neck; stinging in the open cuts and small wounds from where they’d sliced into her; the tickle of rats scurrying over her body.

Instinctively, she reached for Heidelinde, and felt her sister’s arms pull her protectively forward into warmth. 

“Heidi,” she sobbed, “how much longer? When will this end?”

“Be brave, El. I’ve got you.” Heidelinde squeezed her as hard as her weakened arms would let her. “Listen, even if you’re the only one left, you have to get out of here. You have to live.”

“Not without you.” Edelgard buried her face in Heidelinde’s neck. It had only been the two of them for months now, all of the others lying in shallow graves or else dunked into barrels of preservatives.

“El,” Heidelinde said, stroking what was left of Edelgard’s hair. Her voice sounded far more mature than it should have for someone only three years older than Edelgard herself. So calm, so...resigned. “I love you so much. Please keep fighting. Even if Father has given up on us, you know that Hubert and Jaroslava haven’t.”

“But Ada’s already…”

“You _ will _ get out of here,” Heidelinde said. “No one knows you better than me, right? So trust me, won’t you?”

Even though this conversation had been a common one between them over the last several weeks, in retrospect, Edelgard could tell that this would be the night she went to sleep only to wake up and find Heidelinde stiff and cold.

She hadn’t noticed it at the time, but looking back, it was obvious that Heidelinde herself knew it was only a matter of time.

Shortly after her sister’s death, the Crest of Flames finally took, and Edelgard’s hair began growing back in, though a harsh white rather than her natural honey brown.

Only two more weeks following that before Hubert and Jaroslava--vassal to her sister Adelaide, the eldest and true heir to the throne--would arrive and rescue her. 

“El?” Heidelinde whispered.

There were so many things Edelgard wished she could have done differently. 

“I love you, Heidi,” she said, voice cracking. 

Edelgard’s eyes snapped open, her lungs gasping for air. She reached up to touch her cheek with one hand, feeling the tear tracks left there. The fingertips of her other hand traced the scars the chain collar had engraved into the base of her neck, dipping down to press against the love bites Dorothea and Satomi had left on her collarbone a few days ago.

After allowing herself a few moments to catch her breath, Edelgard opened her eyes again. These days, if she had a nightmare, she was generally woken from it by gentle caresses and whispered affirmations of love and protection. However, for the first time in years, she’d woken up on her own, only to find herself alone in bed.

“Hubert.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Where is Satomi?”

Leaving his hands clasped behind his back, Hubert turned his head to look out the bedroom window.

“It appears she’s standing under the large tree in the garden.”

“Why didn’t she wake me?”

“She did not say, Your Majesty. In fact, she didn’t address me at all when she came through the door.”

Edelgard released a half-sigh, half-growl of annoyance and extracted herself from the blankets.

*** * ***

“You’re awake!” Satomi said when Edelgard approached the tree in the garden.

“No thanks to you.”

“Sorry, it took so long for you to get to sleep last night that I thought you could use the extra rest.”

Edelgard didn’t actually remember falling asleep the night before; she remembered very little after Satomi had told her that Dorothea had been abducted.

“I...had a nightmare.”

A concerned expression washed over Satomi’s features.

“Oh El, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Nothing I haven’t handled on my own before.” Edelgard broke eye contact to look at the tree. “What are you doing here?”

A soft blush tinged Satomi’s cheeks. “This is where we had the wedding ceremony with Dorothea,” she said. “Do you remember?”

Edelgard did remember. While her marriage to Satomi had been equal parts a celebration of their union and a public holiday commemorating the end of the war, the only attendees when the three of them said their vows beneath this tree were close friends.

It wasn't as if any of them had any family to invite.

“Yes,” she said. “Satomi, we need to move, and quickly. Do we have any idea who the kidnappers are, or what they might want?”

“Hubert and I found some traces of a potion that suppresses magic, as well as a broken prop sword.” Satomi reached out to touch the bark of the tree. “There clearly had been a struggle, and some of the locals in the theater district did report seeing a small, man-drawn cart on the road leading from the main theater.”

“That...isn’t very substantive evidence.”

“I know. Hubert and I tracked the cart’s progress through the city as far as we could, but we lost it in the slums.” Satomi’s fingers flexed, as if she were trying to take a handful of the tree itself. “The people down there tried to help, of course. Your assistance programs are certainly appreciated, but it was just too hard, given how complex and crowded the layout is.”

Edelgard nodded and Satomi continued. 

“Hubert knows the slums enough to get by, but…”

“The only one who could navigate them well enough to find a specific target would be Dorothea herself.” Edelgard crossed her arms, pushing the thought of her wife bound, gagged, and stuffed into the back of a cart like wares being taken to market out of her mind.

“Exactly.”

“Have you given any thought as to motive?”

Satomi shook her head.

“As unsavory as it feels to put things this way, there’s a good chance that she might have been abducted for hostage purposes. After all, the public is now aware that she’s an Empress Consort.”

Satomi’s eyebrows lowered. If Edelgard hadn’t known her as well as she did, she’d look terrifyingly angry.

“El, it’s not your fault.”

It was sweet of Satomi to say so, but the harsh truth was that it very likely was Edelgard’s fault. She was the one who had insisted on making their marriage to Dorothea known to the public. At the time, Edelgard had assumed that her grand romantic gesture was only misguided in that it had caused Dorothea herself some embarrassment, but now she realized that there were far worse implications to that decision.

Too little too late, as always.

“Let’s pretend for a moment that this abduction doesn’t have anything to do with me,” Edelgard said, ignoring the way Satomi had just rolled her eyes. “Who else might want to abduct Dorothea?”

“I have no idea. I thought she got along with everyone.”

“Hmm, perhaps she got along _ too _ well with someone.” Edelgard rested her chin on her fingers. “Someone who couldn’t bear the thought of her being a married woman. Or perhaps she came between a pair of rivals, who are now locked in a bitter standoff.”

“This isn’t one of those roleplay scenarios you two like to do,” Satomi said. “This is serious.”

“I am being serious. It’s entirely possible that a former cli...er, _ suitor _ is acting irrationally out of an unearned sense of ownership.”

Satomi held Edelgard in a flat stare.

“You know how men are,” Edelgard said with a flip of her cape.

“Well we need to do something,” Satomi said. “You know how _I_ am.”

Edelgard smiled, reaching out to touch Satomi’s elbow.

“I do. And I agree--the thought of leaving Dorothea in the clutches of...whoever it was who took her makes my stomach turn.”

The ache Edelgard’s dream had left in her heart returned in a fresh surge. Was this what it had been like for her father, for Hubert, for Jaroslava, when they all went missing? No, at least then they’d known who had spirited them off, and why. 

Was that better or worse? 

Obviously, their chances of actually finding Dorothea--and finding her in time--were directly proportional to the amount of knowledge they had about her abductors. 

There was a very real possibility that they might never know what happened to her, and they’d have to find a way to live with that terrible lack of closure.

Satomi placed her palms on Edelgard’s cheeks, bending down to look her in the eyes.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let what happened to your siblings happen to our wife.”

_ I hope so, _ Edelgard thought as Satomi’s lips pressed against her own. _ For our sake as well as hers. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should spell out what the title is an allusion to when I get around to finishing.
> 
> It's been awhile since I've posted fic as I write it. Nice change of pace for me, even if it irritates my perfectionism.

Dorothea had certainly felt better.

She’d also felt worse--much worse--than she did right now, but even so, her current situation was not likely to crack the Top Ten Best Memories of her life.

Whatever had been slathered on the dagger she’d been stabbed with last night was still sluggishly crawling through her bloodstream--if she had to guess, she suspected it was some kind of magic-suppressant. It kept her drowsy and clumsy, to the point where she had trouble summoning the tingle of spellcasting in her fingers.

Ugh, couldn’t they have just used a Silence spell like a normal person?

At least whatever it was slowing her down had the useful side effect of numbing the pain in her wrists and ankles, where she’d been bound with coarse rope. The rashes looked rather nasty, though, and she was sure she’d pay for it later once the suppressant wore off.

Stifling a groan, Dorothea pushed herself upright and looked around the room.

She’d expected something a bit less...comfortable. Instead of a storeroom or a jail cell, she was sitting on a plush bed in what appeared to be someone’s room. Someone with an affinity for dark wood with deep red velvet, if the decor was anything to go by.

Upon a second glance, she noted that everything was a bit too tidy to be a true lived-in space--it was more likely an inn room.

It reminded her a bit of the kind of place she’d visit sometimes for work before Manuela had taken her in.

Avoiding looking at her reflection in the mirror, Dorothea reviewed everything she remembered from the night before.

She’d stayed late after practice to handle some paperwork in the office, and was tidying up backstage when she’d realized someone was behind her. Though she’d had a fire spell ready, while she was in the process of turning around, someone had tackled her from the left and driven a short, sharp blade into her shoulder. 

Things got a bit hazy after that.

Dorothea had vague memories of fending at least one or two individuals off with a prop sword, but obviously she hadn’t emerged victorious.

“I should have taken Satomi up on sparring practice,” she muttered to herself, rolling her sore neck from side to side. 

Aside from a dull ache in her muscles and the suppressant-induced drowsiness though, she appeared to be fine. All limbs present and accounted for, all garments thankfully still in place. 

Pride only slightly bruised. 

Hopefully news of her abduction would never reach Bell-chan, and shatter the illusion that Dorothea was somehow able to counter Lord Varley’s wrath. She shuddered to think of what would happen to poor Bernadetta if her main social circle was pared down to Caspar and Linhardt. 

Dorothea would never forgive herself.

While this might not have been an ideal situation, however, it was a little early to call it unsalvageable. 

“After all, as the saying goes: when the Goddess closes a door, Edel-chan smashes open a window.”

Dorothea chuckled to herself, making a mental note to share this new gem with Satomi and Hubert as soon as she returned home.

She scooted herself to the edge of the bed, carefully placing her bound feet on the rug and easing into a standing position. 

There was a door maybe three strides away from the bed, closed and presumably locked. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to check.

Dorothea drew a deep breath, lifting herself up on her toes. Point had never been her strong suit, but she hadn’t danced her way through an entire years-long war for nothing.

Using the other furniture in the small room, she managed to work her way to the door, settling against the corner where two walls met for support.

Her hands had wrapped around the knob when she heard voices on the other side of the wood.

Dorothea bit her lip, slowing her breathing the way Satomi had taught her to do when tracking game, and pressed her ear against the door.

*** * ***

"I've called you here today for a matter of dire importance." 

Edelgard strode by her elite knights, hands clasped behind her back. Ingrid had pressed her fist to her heart, holding a rigid salute, while Shamir leaned against the stone wall behind her, arms crossed. 

"At an undetermined hour last night, one Dorothea Arnault von Hresvelg, Empress Consort and Fodlan's foremost composer, was abducted from her main theater in the entertainment district."

"Dorothea's been kidnapped?" 

"Sir Ingrid, if you could save your questions until after the briefing." 

"Apologies, Your Majesty." 

Edelgard paused before continuing. 

"Despite the best efforts of Captain of the Guard and Vassal to the Crown, we have very few leads at the moment, and all the information we have so far can be summed up in a single sentence." 

Ingrid and Shamir leaned forward slightly, eyes on Edelgard. 

"Hubert," Edelgard said, "the sentence." 

"Of course, my lady." Hubert bowed. "Ms. Arnault resisted, but was injected with a magic suppressing potion and taken captive by, we believe, multiple aggressors. According to our intel, she was loaded into the back of a man-drawn cart and taken into the Enbarr slums."

"That was two sentences," Satomi said. 

"The Captain and Vassal attempted to search the slums last night," Edelgard said, "but they regrettably lacked both manpower and familiarity with the area." 

After a few moments of silence, Shamir spoke. 

"And you want us to search the slums?" 

"I want you to locate my wife." Edelgard tapped her chin with a finger. "I was hoping to form a…"

"Don't say 'strike force'," Satomi whispered. 

"Task force."

Satomi groaned. 

"Unfortunately it will need to remain unnamed for the time being, given how speed is a priority."

"Of course," Shamir said. 

"Enbarr is a huge city," Ingrid said, dropping out of her salute. "One neither Shamir nor I are native to. Shouldn't we recruit more members? Ones that know it better than we do?" 

"This is a sensitive matter," Edelgard said. "I hate to imagine what might happen should word get out that someone has kidnapped the Em--" 

"Dorothea," Satomi cut in. "We're worried that remaining Agarthans or whoever might try to take advantage of the situation." 

"Indeed," Hubert said with a nod. "It's possible the palace will become bombarded with ransom requests from opportunistic ne'er do wells that slow down the investigation." 

"I understand not opening it to the public, but surely there's someone we can call on who grew up in the city," Ingrid said. 

"What about Manuela?" Shamir asked. 

"Good point," Satomi said. "She's an Enbarr native, and the theater district isn't that far from the slums." 

"Perhaps don't vocalize that reason if you decide to ask for her help," Hubert said. 

Edelgard frowned, fingers toying with one of the ornaments on her breastplate. 

"I'd prefer not to let Manuela know about this unless it becomes absolutely necessary."

Satomi tilted her head. 

"Why not?" 

"I'd just prefer to keep it on a Need to Know basis."

"Are you worried Manuela will get mad at us for letting Dorothea be kidnapped?" 

"Hubert. The requisition."

Hubert drew a scroll from his breast pocket, unrolling it before announcing: "Sir Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Sir Shamir Nevrand, knights sworn into service of Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg I, may her reign be eternal, do you accept the duty conferred upon you?" 

Ingrid and Shamir shared a glance. 

"We get a choice?" 

Satomi shrugged. "Apparently? I think this is part of El's new Voluntary Tasking initiative." 

Edelgard remained silent, standing with a hand on her hip, eyes closed. 

Ingrid's fist slammed against her breastplate in a fresh salute. 

"I accept!" 

"Sir Nevrand?" Hubert asked. 

"I suppose." Shamir shrugged. "I'm as fond of Dorothea as anyone. Besides, things have been pretty quiet since the war ended." 

Hubert cleared his throat, reading the next part of the scroll. 

"Her Majesty thanks you for your compliance. Please understand that this mission is top secret and any breach of information--intentional or otherwise--will be punished on pain of death." 

Ingrid gulped but held her salute. 

Shamir drew an arrow from her quiver and tested the tip. 

"When do we start?" she asked. 

Edelgard's eyes opened. Her violet irises sparkled in the morning sun, as if someone had lit a fire behind them.

Both eyes held a cold, hard glint none of them had seen since the war.

"Immediately."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ballet is anachronistic for the 12th century but so is opera so I guess we're even, aren't we, Intelligent Systems.
> 
> Also, surprise! This fic has way more humor in it than originally planned.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I caught a horrendous cold this weekend and I feel like death.

"So," Satomi said, stepping around a food stall, "you wanna tell me what all that was about, back there?" 

Edelgard smiled and nodded to the merchants hailing her. 

"I don't know what you mean," she said, not looking in Satomi's direction. 

"I mean the haughtiness, the formality, the insistence on using titles instead of names. Especially for--" 

"Hubert, on the way home tonight, buy wares from every stall on Market Street." 

"Is that wise, Your Majesty?" 

"I am in no mood to be wise today." 

"El…"

Satomi planted herself in the middle of the path. 

"What are you doing?" Edelgard said. "We have to get to the slums as soon as possible." 

"I'm not moving until you talk to me." 

"Really? Right now?" Edelgard felt anger lick at her throat, toasting the words coming out of her mouth. "We're mid-rescue mission! Every second counts."

"Then I guess you'd better open up." 

This woman. 

Edelgard dreaded the moments when Satomi decided to exercise her unilateral power over her. She was normally good-natured enough not to, but today she apparently wanted to seize Edelgard by the scruff and shake her in front of Enbarr's largest marketplace. 

Humiliating. 

…Though, this might make for a fun bedroom roleplay once the rescue was successfully carried out. 

If. 

_ If _ the rescue mission was successful. 

"I'm…worried," Edelgard mumbled. 

Satomi waited, gaze locked on Edelgard. 

"I feel so powerless in this situation. We have no idea where she is, or what's happening to her." She exhaled. "I'm terrified we won't find her in time. Or worse, at all." 

"Find who." 

Edelgard hesitated, biting her lower lip. 

"Say her name, El." 

"Dorothea."

"See? That wasn't so hard." Satomi wrapped her arms around Edelgard and pulled her to her chest. 

Edelgard tried to ignore the stares and excited murmurs from the merchants. 

"If I'm being honest, I'm really worried too," Satomi said, her breath warm on Edelgard's scalp. 

Edelgard reached up to take handfuls of Satomi's cape at the shoulders. 

The memory of Heidelinde lying rigid and cold in the hay that blanketed the dungeon seeped into Edelgard's mind, mixing with nightmares she'd had during the war of Dorothea sprawled dead on the battlefield. 

No. 

No, she was stronger now. 

An emperor, a war hero, a devoted and loving wife. Perhaps someday a parent. 

Edelgard was finished with losing people she loved. 

"Satomi," she whispered into her wife's eerily still chest. "Let's bring Dorothea home."

*** * ***

"I can't believe how easy that was. Only two of us got knocked out." 

"Let's not get cocky, Bernard. She's not the type to underestimate."

"Yeah, I heard she flattened the old Archbishop with a meteor!" 

"Well," Dorothea breathed, ear still against the wood of the door, "I don't like to brag, but…"

"We're lucky that magic blocking potion worked. If it hadn't, we'd all be smoldering lumps of flesh right now." 

"I'm pretty sure that potion making her woozy is the only reason Frederick and Erwin didn't get brained by that prop sword."

"Wouldn't that have been embarrassing!" 

Dorothea counted the distinct voices. It sounded like there were four or five different men, and two women. Taking the two unconscious men into account, that suggested nearly ten captors. 

Easy enough to dispatch in a fair fight, but without access to magic or weapons, she'd need to get creative. 

"How long does that potion last, anyway?" 

"According to the 'pothcary, a fortnight."

"A fortnight?!" Dorothea said, fortunately drowned out by the equally surprised shouts from the other room. 

"T'was a strong dose." 

"That's good then, isn't it? That should give us plenty of time for the wedding." 

Wedding? 

Perhaps unfairly, Dorothea had assumed her kidnapping was politically motivated. Not to lay the blame at Edelgard's feet, but it had never occurred to her that she might be captured as anything other than a bargaining chip to use with the crown. 

"Sorry, Edel-chan," she whispered. "I'll make it up to you when I get home." 

"Forget the wedding! By that point, we'll have the Emperor at our mercy!" 

"Seems I spoke too soon," Dorothea said under her breath. 

"How is he planning to keep her in line after the marriage, anyway?" 

"Who knows. Maybe there's some ancient ritual nonsense t'keep women in line." 

"I sure would love that for my old lady!" 

"You're lucky you got your wife pregnant when you did, or you'd have lost her to me." 

"Oh shut up, Sofia. Take your loss like a man." 

"I will do no such thing." 

"Knock it off, you two. Geoff, we all know where your wife goes three days a week. Sofia, quit rubbing it in. You had your chance and you let it slip by you. Let's get back to what we're going to do now that we have Ms. Arnault."

"I guess we report to the Order?" 

"Good idea. Helen, Ivan, go saddle up your horses." 

"Actually, one of us should probably go check on our guest first. She's due to wake up at any moment now." 

Shit. 

Dorothea pushed herself back from the door, hopping backwards as quickly as possible. She’d just fallen back onto the bed when the door opened.

“Good morning,” called a voice from the doorway.

Dorothea groaned, mimicking someone just waking up. She attempted to stretch, acting surprised to find her wrists and ankles bound.

“What is this?” she said with fake shock. 

“‘Pologies for the rough treatment, Ms. Arnault, but you’re one dangerous woman.”

“As much as I appreciate the commendation, I’d prefer to know what’s going on here.”

Dorothea looked toward the door, noting that two of her captors had come in: a scruffy, broad older man, and a thinner young man with greasy hair. 

“We don’t need to tell you a blessed thing,” the younger man said, but the older one put a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, now. We may be muscles for ‘ire, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t still gentlemen.” He turned to Dorothea and offered a bow. “Sorry ‘bout the lad, Miss. Ya see, we’ve done captured you.”

“I can see that. Tell me, why shouldn’t I cook you both right now with a spell?”

The younger man laughed. “Cause you can’t!”

Dorothea made a show of attempting to cast, only for the magic to fizzle before it could even form in her palms. It was a shame she was currently tucked away in an inn somewhere, since this performance was award-winning, if she did say so herself.

“Too bad for you,” the young man said. “This is so pathetic, it’s making me want to throw you a bone. Basically, we’re being paid good money by a big fan of yours who wants to make you his bride.”

“Curious how this person purports to be a big fan of mine and yet somehow missed the Imperial proclamation some weeks ago about my marriage. Tell this so called ‘fan’ that I’m already happily married.” Dorothea sniffed. “Of course, if he would like to take this up with my wives, the Emperor and the Captain of the Imperial Guard…”

“Aye, that was certainly a complication,” the older man said, “but our boss decided to team up with another group in order to deal with it. Ya see, it was somethin’ of a...two birds with one stone kind of deal.”

“Last I checked, there ain’t any rules about widows not being able to remarry,” the younger man said.

A laugh escaped Dorothea’s lips.

“You think your little ragtag squad of petty thugs is going to stand a chance against Satomi and Edel-chan?” She laughed harder, continuing once she tapered off into giggles. “That’s not even considering the other factors, like Hugh or the knights.”

“Oh no, ma’am, we’d never dream of standing toe to toe with the Emperor, much less the Cap’n.”

“So how exactly do you plan to deal with the fact that my wives are undoubtedly on your trail at this very moment?

“We don’t,” the younger man said.

“Aye, we were merely hired to capture you, Ms. Arnault. Now that we’ve done that, it’s time to ‘and you over to The Order.”

The older man nodded over his shoulder, and several more bandits flooded the room. Several of them held Dorothea down, while one stuffed a burlap sack over her head.

“Come on now, Ms. Arnault,” a female voice said, “no need to struggle, now.”

“Just knock her out, Sofie, come on.”

Dorothea felt a pinch in the back of her neck, near the base of her skull. 

She had just enough time to picture her wives’ faces before everything was swallowed by a deep blackness.

*** * ***

“Sorry, Your Majesty, no one’s been through this neighborhood in a few days.”

Edelgard pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers, attempting to will away the headache building behind her eyes.

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“I could never lie to you, Your Majesty, you’re the reason my family was able to open up that smitty!” The blacksmith rubbed a dirty hand on his stained apron. “My boys work the furnace all through the night, see? They’d have noticed if someone had come through.”

“Well, I appreciate your help.”

“Thanks for the visit! You’re welcome back any time.”

“Hubert, give the man a reward for his cooperation.”

Silently, Hubert reached into his breast pocket. A look of apprehension crossed the blacksmith’s face for a moment, relaxing into a wide grin when Hubert produced a small satchel in place of a throwing dagger. 

“The crown thanks you for your service,” Hubert said, dropping the satchel into the man’s hand with a metallic clink.

Brushing off the front of his coat, Hubert rejoined Edelgard near the crossroads at the end of the street.

“Where to next, my lady?”

“Perhaps we should split up.”

“To what end, if I may be so bold as to ask?”

“To cover more ground.” Edelgard ground her heel into the mud beneath them. “This entire area is a maze. We can’t even be certain she came through here.”

“Edelgard! There you are!” Ingrid squeezed between the stacks of piled crates blocking one of the paths. “Good news!”

“You’ve found something?”

“Shamir thinks she may have. Follow me.”

Ingrid led Edelgard and Hubert back through the winding backroads of the slums, coming out near one of the main gates of Enbarr. 

Satomi had already arrived, standing with Shamir and talking to one of the guards usually assigned to watch the gate.

“Your Majesty!” he said, saluting. “It’s both a pleasure and an honor!”

“Likewise. Tell me, what do you know?” Edelgard pushed her way to the front of the group, planting herself before the gatekeeper.

“Sir Nevrand here was telling me that you’re looking for some folks pulling a cart.” The gatekeeper grinned widely. “One came through here last night.”

Edelgard reached up to grab the top of the gatekeeper’s breastplate, pulling his face closer to her level.

“El…” Satomi said behind her.

“Where were they headed?”

“U-Um, well, they weren’t much for small talk. Was a group of about eight or nine, mostly men with a few women mixed in. Heard one of them mention something about The Order.”

Edelgard looked back over her shoulder at Hubert. He returned her gaze with a shrug. 

“What do you know about this ‘Order’?” Edelgard asked.

“Absolutely nothing, Your Majesty. Best I could guess would be that it’s connected to that cult people’ve been whispering about in the slums the last several weeks.”

“There’s a  _ cult _ running rampant in my city? Why was I not informed?!”

“Lady Edelgard, if I may.” Hubert stepped forward, peeling Edelgard’s fingers back from the gatekeeper’s armor. “The cult is currently being investigated. It’s nothing to worry about, just some discontented nobles grousing about you helping the poor and building a religion around it.”

“I’d say I should worry about it, given that they’ve kidnapped my wife!”

“El, calm down.” Satomi’s hands gripped Edelgard’s shoulders. “This isn’t the time to panic. We’ve found a pretty big clue.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” Edelgard grumbled.

“Gatekeeper, do you happen to know anything about where the Order is based out of?” Satomi asked.

“From what I hear, they operate out of the mountains around the ravine.”

Edelgard shook off Satomi’s grip, interrupting her thanks to the gatekeeper.

“Hubert, return to the castle and saddle up Seig. The rest of you, take your horses or pegasi or what have you and prepare to leave immediately.”

“My lady,” Hubert said, “are you quite certain you want to act this rashly?”

“As I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, during a rescue mission, every moment counts,” Edelgard said.

A few weeks earlier. Only a few weeks earlier, and Heidelinde could have survived too.

“I just don’t know if it’s wise to rush out to the Morgaine Ravine with so little…” Hubert glanced at the gatekeeper, still excitedly talking to Satomi, “...reliable information.”

“Regrettably, it’s the only lead we have right now.” Edelgard tapped her temple. “We may find nothing, but at least we’ll have ruled something out.”

Following a reward for the gatekeeper, Edelgard briskly walked back toward the castle. She could feel a sense of purpose in her strides, now that there was a direction, a plan. She couldn’t wait to get home and mount her wyvern.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing is ever over until I finish it!
> 
> Still trying to update both this fic and Dorokei every day of Golden Week this year.  
Japan isn't quite as harsh on the quarantine situation as the rest of the world just yet, but if I don't do things during GW I may lose my mind.
> 
> Also, wtf AO3. May 3rd isn't the future, it's what day it is in Japan where I'm posting from!

It took several seconds for Dorothea's eyes to begin to adjust to the darkness. 

She couldn't make out much at first, aside from stone walls and indistinct lumps of hay. Burlap rubbed against her bare arms, which were now chained behind her back.

The air felt thick and wet, as if she were sitting in a swamp.

Wonderful. 

Dorothea pushed herself to sit up, noting the heaviness in her limbs and the ringing behind her ears. Just what had that little brigand done to her? 

"Okay D, pull yourself together." Dorothea took a deep breath to steady herself, but a fetid odor assaulted her nose, causing her to double over in a coughing fit. 

Where was that stench coming from? 

The smell tickled the back of her brain, pulling with it memories of the heat and roar of battle. 

"Oh no, don't tell me…"

Slowly, Dorothea's eyes adjusted further to the darkness, the lumps of hay gaining definition and clearer detail. 

The acrid sting of anxiety bubbled in the back of her throat as her vision adjusted. 

The reason she hadn't initially realized they were bodies was because none of them were still whole. 

Most of the lumps were little more than headless, limbless torsos, though a few errant piles of arms or legs punctuated the dungeon floor. 

There was not a single head, aside from her own. 

Dorothea swallowed, forcing panic back down her esophagus. 

“No need to worry,” she mumbled, fiddling with the shackles around her wrists. Her pulse felt harsh and loud, pounding against the iron. “Edel-chan and Satomi are surely on their way. They wouldn’t leave me…”

Dorothea bit her lip. Edelgard had, in fact, left her once before. Back during the war, after Satomi had returned from Sothis-knew-where, just as key battles had come into play.

No. No, that was years ago. Dorothea had seen Edelgard go down on one knee before her and ask her to be both her and Satomi’s wife. 

Things were different now.

...she hoped.

*** * ***

Seig wasn’t as young as he’d once been, and didn’t appreciate being roused from his second nap of the day by his impatient master.

Edelgard never remembered him being this difficult to saddle; during the war, the process had only taken Hubert a matter of moments, yet now a full minute passed only to find him still fruitlessly trying to buckle the straps.

“Hubert, need I remind you yet again, we don’t have time for you to play games with Seig.”

“I promise you, my lady, exactly no one is pleased at the current moment.”

“El!” Satomi shouted over the beating of wings and clomping of hooves.

Edelgard turned to see her wife waving energetically, seated behind a grim-looking Ingrid on her pegasus. Shamir’s warhorse stamped at the ground beside them.

“Captain, please stop moving so much,” Ingrid said, leaning forward to pat the pegasus’s neck. “Bukkenade, it’s okay, girl. She won’t be like this the whole way to the Ravine...hopefully.”

“Looks like Seig doesn’t really want to go,” Satomi said, shifting her weight to the opposite side and earning a distressed whinny from Bukkenade.

“Yes, thank you for that astute observation, Lady Satomi,” Hubert said, dodging an irritated swipe from Seig’s wing.

“You do have a horse,” Shamir said to Edelgard. “Several, in fact.”

“Flying is faster.”

“Would you like me to go fetch you one of the pegasi?” Ingrid asked. “Rique-Manger is especially fast and I think she might be a good fit--”

“I appreciate the offer, Sir Ingrid, but my wyvern is more than sufficient.”

“That seems a bit...ironic, don’t you think?”

“How so?”

“I just mean...considering how you feel about, uh...large...reptiles…”

Edelgard clenched her jaw. 

“It has more to do with the fact that I swore off riding pegasi in my youth.”

Ingrid frowned. “Listen, I know it’s terrifying to fall off, but that can happen with a wyvern too.”

In Edelgard’s peripheral vision, Satomi grasped Ingrid’s shoulder and shook her head. 

“No, it’s just that her one sister, Hei--”

“Quite honestly, it’s not really relevant right now, nor is it anyone’s business.”

Hubert grunted, Seig sweeping his legs out from under him with his tail.

Shamir sighed. “Here I was, thinking I’d be the last one to arrive at Morgaine, but it seems you really do hate to lose, even at losing.”

“Hubert!” Edelgard snapped as he backed away from the angry wyvern. “Get Seig saddled,  _ now. _ ”

Satomi hopped off of Bukkenade’s back and trotted to Seig.

“Come on, buddy. We need to go rescue D. This is important.” She held out a fist, and almost immediately, Seig turned to sniff Satomi’s hand with interest. 

“Ah ha!” Hubert ducked beneath one wing to successfully buckle the saddle. “Finally.”

Meanwhile, Satomi had opened her hand to reveal some smoked meat in her palm.

“This was going to be my traveling snack, but it’s okay, you can have it.” 

Seig lifted the cured pieces one by one, tilting his head back to let them slide down his throat. Satomi smiled and patted him on the nose.

“There you go, El. He’s all set.”

“About time.” Edelgard climbed onto Seig’s back and took her axe from Satomi. “Let’s leave immediately, while there’s still a chance that Dorothea’s head remains attached to her neck.”

“Could we not say things like that?” Satomi asked, wrinkling her nose.

“I just want to impress upon everyone how important it is that we move quickly. The ravine is rather lengthy, so let us all ensure we meet in view of the river. That will ensure we don’t waste time looking for each other instead of Dorothea.”

Satomi nodded, leaning up for a goodbye kiss.

Edelgard cleared her throat, Hubert and Ingrid obediently looking away.

Shamir huffed. “We have time for this, but not to properly calm your mount?”

Satomi didn’t let Edelgard retort, pressing her lips to Edelgard’s firmly. 

Eyes closed, she rested her forehead against Edelgard’s.

“It’s important not to panic. Rushing can lead to mistakes, you know that. We’ll find her in time, I promise.”

*** * ***

Despite Satomi’s advice, Edelgard couldn’t help pressing Seig to fly as fast as he could toward the Morgaine Ravine. She couldn’t worry about Shamir and Hubert disappearing under the clouds, or the overladen Bukkenade falling behind.

She knew what happened when rescue missions were delayed. 

They made a young girl swear to never mount a pegasus again in her life, because it hurt too much to ride one alone.

_ Heidelinde would have liked Ingrid. _

Edelgard blinked away tears. Frigid wind clawed at her eyes and face, making her almost wish she’d given herself the opportunity to properly dress for this excursion. In the time it had taken Hubert to saddle Seig, she could have sent for at least a pair of goggles.

The ravine was about half a day’s ride from Hresvelg, though the tricky paths through the foothills often made it take longer. Thankfully, that was all easily bypassed by air, and within an hour or so Edelgard could see the jagged teeth of the mountains flanking either side of the mighty Morgaine River. 

From this altitude it resembled a beast’s mouth, teeth bared and ready to attack.

It reminded her of that final battle with Rhea, the one she’d faced with only Satomi and Dorothea at her side. The one she hadn’t really anticipated surviving.

Not wanting to reveal herself to the enemy, Edelgard circled the ravine a few times from above the clouds, debating the best place to land. 

If she were putting together a secret insurgent base, she’d probably tuck it into one of the more difficult to reach nooks of the mountains. Or even better, she’d dig out a headquarters into the steep cliffs of the ravine.

There would be some time yet before anyone else arrived. Edelgard eased Seig down slowly, until he was gliding mere feet above the river. Fortunately he blended in with the dark, frothy water below, and Edelgard had thought to wrap a black woolen cape around herself to disguise her crimson Imperial armor. Thanks to the mountains lining the top of the ravine, most of the sunlight did not reach down this far, allowing Edelgard to scan the sides of the cliffs for caves or man-made entryways. 

Morgaine was long and monotonous, but Edelgard had Seig glide as slowly as he could, just fast enough to stay airborne while she concentrated on searching the layers of earth that lined the chasm.

Adrenaline began to churn within her stomach the longer they went without finding anything conspicuous. 

They were getting closer. It had to be soon now. What Edelgard  _ should  _ do when she found the hideout was land and wait for the others, but would she be able to do that?

Could she bring herself to patiently idle outside while Dorothea endured the unspeakable at the hands of villainous subversives?

Edelgard had been focusing so intently on the walls of the chasm that she nearly toppled off Seig’s back when he angled upward. 

She was about to scold him when she realized that the reason he’d changed trajectory was because they’d reached the end of the canyon, the land beginning to tilt upward at a steep angle.

She’d searched the entire ravine.

Nothing.

That couldn’t be. 

Hubert’s voice murmured in Edelgard’s memory about “reliable information”, but she pushed it aside. 

Where else would the Order be?

No, no. She must have missed something. It was best to check again, just to be sure.

Perhaps the dark concealed the base as well as it did her and Seig.

Edelgard had completed two more full passes and was about to go for a third when she spotted Hubert and Shamir riding along the lip of the canyon.

She flew up to meet them, letting Seig land and enjoy a well-earned rest.

“You arrived much quicker than I anticipated,” Edelgard said as Hubert got down from his horse and bowed.

“Fortunately, both Sir Nevrand and myself are quite familiar with the Milkteeth and so we knew exactly where to ride.”

“No one has called these mountains ‘Fodlan’s Milkteeth’ in ages,” Shamir said, stretching. “You’re making me very nostalgic, Lord Vestra.”

“As much as it warms me to see you two getting along so well, I have troubling news,” Edelgard said. “Despite my haste in arriving, it seems as though the Order was smart enough to tuck themselves into the mountains themselves rather than the canyon walls. I can guarantee that I have not missed anything, so we will have to search the passes themselves. We have a lot of work to do.”

“Where are Ingrid and Satomi?” Shamir asked, shading her eyes with one hand and looking skyward. “Despite Hubert and I having that sporting race, they still should have beaten us here.”

A chill rolled down Edelgard’s spine.

That was right; they should have been here by now.

“Perhaps… Perhaps they landed somewhere else?” she said.

“Your Majesty, we were all meant to meet within view of the river. You have just indicated that you’ve searched the area thoroughly.”

Edelgard inhaled shakily, pressing a hand to her chest.

This couldn’t be happening. 

Dorothea being kidnapped was already testing her limit, but now Satomi had to go missing as well?

Edelgard leaned back to gulp down air and hopefully stave off an episode. A splotch of white crested the tip of one of the mountains.

“There!” she gasped, pointing toward Bukkenade.

“I certainly hope they have a good excuse,” Hubert said, easing his horse aside to give Ingrid space to land.

Bukkenade came down harder on the ground than was likely good for her legs, Ingrid rolling off her back with one arm wrapped around her middle.

“Ingrid! What happened?”

Shamir bent down, top already off a bottle of potion. She pulled Ingrid’s arm away from her side, freeing a stream of blood from within her armor.

“He stabbed me! Through the gap in my chestpiece!” Ingrid said, hissing as Shamir poured the potion into the very same gap. “That lowlife! How dirty!”

“Ingrid.”

Her eyes snapped open.

“Edelgard! I’m sorry! Things were going great, we were going to bring him to you so you could question him yourself, but then the Captain started to fight with him, and he stabbed me, and…”

“Sir Ingrid,” Hubert said, voice firm. “Calm yourself and report properly.”

Ingrid slapped her own cheeks and shook her head.

“We found one, a member of the Order. He was leaving the ravine and heading back toward Enbarr. We caught him leaving a copse of trees where he must have been camping.”

“He had to be well hidden for us to miss him,” Shamir said, helping Ingrid sit up.

“He wouldn’t talk at first, not until we told him we were taking him to the Emperor for questioning. Then he opened up some.”

“What did he say?” Hubert said. He learned forward, an impatient glare focused on Ingrid.

“The Order has just moved. They’re being bankrolled by some noble, apparently, who offered them a better headquarters than squatting in the Milkteeth.”

“Ingrid,” Edelgard said slowly, “while that is very valuable information, I want to know two things: do you have information on where they are located now, and  _ where is Satomi. _ ”

Ingrid coughed, as if choking on her own words. 

“I… I… Let me explain.”

“That is not what I want to hear, Ingrid.”

“Their current base is right near the Oghma Mountains. In Charon.”

“Oghma,” Edelgard said.

“Charon,” Shamir said.

“As for Satomi… Edelgard, please forgive me! I tried my best, but it was too hard not to crash when she was trying to wrestle the Order member on Bukkenade’s back! And then I got stabbed and I just couldn’t…”

“Where is my wife, Ingrid.”

Ingrid dropped her gaze to the ground, panting.

“She...fell off.”

“No,” Edelgard said, clenching her fist. “No, that is not the answer I want.”

“I’m so sorry… Both she and the Order member just...tumbled right off Bukkenade…”

Edelgard closed her eyes and tried to keep her breathing controlled. 

_ “Don’t rush,” _ Satomi had told her. If she hadn’t pressed so hard to arrive, if she’d kept pace with Ingrid…

“Is she…?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t find them. I looked, I did.”

“I know you did,” Edelgard said, voice quiet. 

She opened her eyes to see Ingrid break from Shamir’s arm and lean forward, pressing her forehead to the ground. Her hair had begun to grow back in lately, a smaller version of the braid she’d worn at school hanging over her shoulder. It reminded Edelgard of the way Heidelinde's braid had always hung over one shoulder or the other. 

Heidelinde really would have liked Ingrid.

“Edelgard. I cannot tell you how sorry I am. If you want to execute me, I would under--”

“I’m not going to execute you,” Edelgard said, turning toward Seig. “It’s barbaric to demand your life because of a mistake.”

“But--”

“Do not misunderstand,” Edelgard said, taking Seig’s reigns and looking northward, “if we find that pathetic worm who knocked Satomi off your pegasus alive, he will wish he died from the fall.”

“How...would you like to proceed, my lady?”

Edelgard swung one leg over Seig’s saddle and clenched his reigns so tightly her knuckles ached.

“We don’t have time to waste. We head toward Charon immediately.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of Ingrid's pegasi are named after actual Medieval dishes.
> 
> Seig's name is just "victory" in German.
> 
> Shamir's horse has this cool-sounding name that's actually just Dagdan for "cute small thing". She has not translated the name for anyone to date.
> 
> Hubert's horse is called Belladonna, after deadly nightshade.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When we last left the rescue party...  

> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy today's update.

The grounds of the Charon estate had once been meticulously kept, or so Dorothea had heard. She hadn’t been within the borders until well after the war was underway, and understandably her attention at the time had been drawn to things slightly more important than the state of the house and gardens.

Now weeds and broken furniture choked the entire property. Ivy had begun to creep over the walls of the great house in the distance. The once-prized flower beds lay trampled and churned. Several Almyrian-style columns had toppled over and shattered. What had at some point been a hedge maze was missing large chunks of many of the walls.

Dorothea did remember that. During one particularly bloody episode, Bernadetta had been cornered in the heart of the maze. Both Petra and Caspar had hacked it to splinters to rescue her.

Once Bell-chan had been confirmed safe, Dorothea had set a whole section of it on fire. 

She smiled for a moment at the memory, before the distant house reclaimed her attention.

The march up the drive felt interminable, and not unlike the procession of a condemned woman to her fate. Six heavily armed soldiers and two cloaked mages surrounded Dorothea, a lance leveled at her back, lest her pace slow. 

At least her hands were finally unbound. 

Her shoulders ached from the awkward position she’d forced herself into the night before, staring intently at the stone wall closest to her until exhaustion had set in. 

Her stomach twisted in complaint. Just before a handful of silent, robed figures appeared to gather her in the weak light of dawn, Dorothea had been jolted awake by the familiar stab of hunger. It had been at least a day and a half now since she’d last eaten, the longest she’d gone involuntarily since Manuela had taken her in.

Was there a term for unwelcome nostalgia?

“Keep up,” said one of the guards behind her with a grunt. 

“I haven’t walked under my own power in more than a day,” Dorothea said, pointedly sweeping a small rock behind her. “And I haven’t eaten in even longer.”

“Keep. Up.”

Dorothea sniffed. She had promised herself the night before her wedding that she would never treat the working class badly, but she had to admit that it was satisfying to imagine leaving this guard to Hubert’s mercy.

They passed groups of servants as they continued, tidying the greenery and clearing debris.

“His lordship seeks to restore the Charon estate to its former glory,” whispered one of the robed mages.

“Why bother?”

“It is probably best to ask him yourself. After all, this will become your new home.”

Dorothea tamped down the urge to gag.

Despite the sorry state of the path, they arrived at the house more quickly than she’d expected.

The mage at the head of the party stepped through the double doors at the front, leaving Dorothea outside with her entourage of prison guards. 

The doors were left open, giving her a clear view of the robed figure standing in the grand entry hall.

“Your lordship, we have brought you the lady.”

“Ah, splendid! I have been beside myself with anticipation of seeing my bride-to-be!”

Was that...was that the mad “fan” who had ordered her capture?

Dorothea couldn’t place the voice, but a cold sweat began to coat her skin.

“She will be all yours, my lord...as soon as the small matter of payment is settled.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Your new clubhouse near the mountains has been ready for some time now. You will find it prepared for you and your comrades to begin moving in immediately.”

Though she didn’t know who exactly, she’d heard that voice before. Dorothea paged through her memory, comparing this voice to all the suitors she’d met during her tenure with Mittelfrank.

Aside from one particular noblewoman it hurt too much to remember, most of the fans she’d met over the years blurred together into a faceless, voiceless stew of superficial compliments and cloying attention.

So why was her heart racing?

“Bring her in, will you?” the man’s voice said, and Dorothea felt the tip of the spear at her shoulder blades.

She stepped into the grand entryway of the House of Charon, feet sinking into the garish red rug that had been laid just inside the doorway. 

“Ah, there she is. My muse, my light, my siren.”

Dorothea looked up at the man leaning on the railing of the second floor, and screamed.

*** * ***

Shamir roughly grabbed Seig’s bridle, halting Edelgard’s plans to take off.

“What are you doing?” Edelgard asked, pulling up on the reins.

“What am I doing? Listen to yourself! Are you not even going to look for Satomi?”

Edelgard kept her gaze focused on the scales on the back of Seig’s head. 

“There’s no time. She could be anywhere by now, and we have a lead for finding Dorothea.”

“I knew you could be cold when you wanted to be, but this is something else.”

“Sir Nevrand,” Hubert cut in, “while I appreciate your apprehension at our destination, I would ask you to not speak to her majesty in such a fashion. She is currently under severe distress.”

Shamir clicked her teeth, her eyes falling to the ground beside her.

Edelgard heard her mutter something. Likely Dagdan swearing. 

“Sir Nevrand.”

“I’m going to look for Satomi,” Shamir said, letting go of Seig. 

“Shamir…”

“Ingrid, you go with Edelgard and Hubert. I’ll meet up with you on your way back.”

With a grunt, she saddled her horse and was already galloping away from the ravine by the time Ingrid managed to get to her feet. 

Hubert shook his head.

“I understand why she would not be keen on going to Charon, but Ms. Arnault’s life is hanging in the balance.”

“She’ll be along eventually,” Ingrid said, holding onto Bukkenade for support. “It’s just that...she has a tough time with those memories. I honestly think that’s part of the reason she hasn’t gone home--to her actual home--in so long.”

“Ingrid.” Edelgard did not turn, instead continuing to stare straight ahead. “I will understand if you too would prefer to search for Satomi for the time being.”

Ingrid frowned. “No. I’m fine.”

“You haven’t gone home since the war.”

“Enbarr is my home now, I told you that.”

“I don’t want you joining this mission out of guilt.”

“And I don’t want you sending me away because of guilt.” Ingrid shook her head. “I made the decision to follow you, and that is that.”

“Ingrid,” Edelgard said, feeling a chilly breeze stir her hair, “thank y--”

“Err, Hubert? Can I get a little help? I don’t think I can get up on Bukkenade on my own.”

Hubert dismounted Belladonna with a heavy sigh.

Kneeling beside Bukkenade, he cupped his hands for Ingrid to use as a step. 

Edelgard watched her attempt to mount and fail three times.

“If you’re too injured to ride alone, then you may accompany me,” she said, gesturing to Hubert to come.

“Are you sure?”

“If you’d prefer to ride with Hubert…”

A few moments later, Ingrid had squeezed into the saddle behind Edelgard. 

“Bit of a tight fit, huh?” she said with a nervous chuckle.

“It’s fine. I’m quite used to sharing one saddle on a flying mount.”

“So am I, but...you know. I’m not used to being in the back. Not sure where to put my hands.”

“Do you not think it’s wise to hold onto me?”

Though she couldn’t see Ingrid’s face, Edelgard could feel the heat from it against the back of her neck.

“Would Dorothea or Satomi mind?”

“Sir Ingrid, have Ms. Arnault or Lady Satomi ever shown any indication that they were the jealously possessive type?” Hubert said.

“No, I guess not. In fact, I’ve always been more worried about you, Edelgard, considering that Dorothea and I sometimes…”

Edelgard dug her knees into Seig’s sides, driving him skyward. Ingrid let out a distressed yelp, then flung her arms around Edelgard’s middle to avoid falling off. 

Vicious wind swallowed Hubert’s long-suffering groan behind them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed the final day of Golden Week. Please forgive me.

The Lady of El Molino. 

Dorothea had been playing the love interest of the titular heroine, Inés Ileana Araujo, brought to life by none other than Manuela. The show had run longer than usual--an entire two weeks longer, in fact--thanks to several visiting lords and ladies from the farther provinces. 

Later, Dorothea learned that they had all come to the capital to celebrate the safe return of Princess Edelgard from the clutches of her captors.

Perhaps that explained why the afterparty had been so especially raucous. 

Manuela had been drunk seemingly before the curtain had even fallen on the final scene; Dorothea distinctly remembered her breathing booze-scented air directly into her face during the fake kiss at the very end.

It had only taken about an hour before she had curled up on a lush red couch by the fireplace and passed out, leaving Dorothea to the mercy of the affluent strangers pawing at her from all angles. 

She’d smiled politely and allowed her hand to be kissed, and even had yielded to a few invitations to dance, but all she’d wanted was to retreat into a quiet corner.

Normally, a party with plenty of rich guests fawning over her would be considered a good time to hunt for potential spouses, but at the time, it had felt too much like work for Dorothea’s taste. She’d been out of sorts over something or other (probably about Manuela keeping the kiss at the end fake, or Liesa leaving the troupe to get married, or something along those lines), and her mood was hardly conducive to partaking in the nobleman buffet spread before her.

Eventually, after what felt like interacting with the entire population of Enbarr, she managed to find an empty stool tucked behind a bookcase. Dorothea had sat down, leaned against the wall behind her, and closed her eyes.

“Ah, Benedikt, I can hardly believe you.”

“Oh stop, you and I both know you can hardly believe anything else.”

“How many is this now? Four?”

“Five.” A chuckle followed by a gulp of drink. “If they aren’t going to have crests, the least they could do would be born male. Who has use for one daughter, much less five?”

“It’s your own fault for constantly going after common women, you know.”

“I simply have terrible luck, my dear Konrad. I’m like noble Odysseus, infuriating Lady Luck so that she won’t bless me the way she has others.”

“Yes, what a weary classic hero you are. Though I suppose it is true that there have been so many reports of crests manifesting in the spawn of unwashed nobodies lately. Still, you should probably go after a proper woman one of these days.”

“Why bother? That just makes the entire process more difficult. A ‘proper lady’ as you so eloquently put it would barely show me her forehead without a ring. They’re too clever, so educated and shrewd. Now, a servant whore? She’ll spread herself open for nothing.”

A sigh. “It’s because the poor believe in love.”

“Exactly.”

“I really did think that you loved that first one, though. What was her name?”

“Oh, my little bear? Ha, what gave you that idea?”

“You kept her and the brat around longer than any of the others.”

“It was my first time, Konrad. I stupidly thought it might have taken time for the crest to show. I know much better now, and as such am more efficient.”

Dorothea hadn’t realized she’d broken out in a cold sweat or begun to tremble until the owner of the voice had leaned around the bookcase and spotted her.

“Oh my, pardon me! I didn’t realize we were in such lovely company. Come now, don’t look so ill, dear little star, I’d never say such things about you.”

The man had brushed his rich, chestnut-colored bangs out of his face and flashed her his teeth. His clothes had fit him so well that they must have been specially tailored--they’d been just tight enough to show off his muscular arms and toned thighs, but not so tight as to be tawdry.

“Forgive me for saying so, angel, but I must confess that your beauty is enough to even wrest a wedding band out of my libertine fingers.”

“Thank you,” Dorothea had whispered, swallowing to avoid vomiting all overself. “People often used to say I take after my mother, Ulla.”

The man had answered with a hearty laugh. “I once knew an Ulla, and trust me, my dear, you should be relieved that she is not the one you take after. That woman’s only saving grace was her eyes.”

His shoulders had relaxed then, reminding Dorothea of how cats appeared their most languid just before pouncing. 

“You look like you’re awfully tired of being here. Why don’t I escort you back to your dressing room. I’m sure there’s somewhere to lie down there, no?”

“I… I’m afraid I…”

“Don’t act like you aren’t interested.”

“She isn’t. Move.”

Manuela had shoved the man aside then, taking Dorothea by the wrist and pulling her upright.

“If you insist on preying on unwell women like the mangy wolf you are, make sure you don’t do it under my nose again. You’ll come away with much more than a trampled foot.”

Manuela had led Dorothea back to their shared dressing room then, where she’d held and fussed over her for the next hour while Dorothea cried.

They’d never talked about it, the details. Manuela had never asked, and had been content to treat it like a usual unsavory suitor encounter, even if she was very aware it hadn’t been.

For a year or two after the encounter, Dorothea had been terrified of looking out at the audience when the house lights went up and seeing Benedikt there, though by the time she’d shipped herself off to Garreg Mach, the memory had faded enough that it felt like little more than a horrible nightmare.

At least until she’d seen his name scrawled in Count Galatea’s overly ornate script.

She’d waited outside during the meeting. As deeply concerned as she’d been for Ingrid--enough to accompany her, since every girl in Fodlan with horrid Count for a father ended up her responsibility--she hadn’t been able to bring herself to enter.

The entire trip back, the entire battle in the Valley of Torment, Dorothea had been terrified that she’d have to see him again.

The very same chestnut-haired nobleman who stared down at her now.

“You’re…” 

Dorothea couldn’t quite force the words “my father” out of her throat. They stuck there, wedged in her esophagus like a fatal fish bone.

“Fabulous? Resplendent? Handsome to an unparalleled degree?” He smiled widely. Dorothea nearly choked at how closely it resembled the smile she often saw in the mirror. “Just kidding. While I have my ways with women, this is the first time I’ve stunned one to speechlessness!”

“Lord Benedikt,” the robed Order Member hissed beside Dorothea, “we shall now take our leave.”

“Going already? You don’t want to partake of our engagement dinner?”

Benedikt laughed as if he’d just told the most amusing joke ever conceived and drew away from the bannister. Somewhere off to her left, Dorothea could hear his footsteps coming down a staircase. 

_ Run, _ she mentally screamed at herself,  _ run, go! Get out of here! _

Frozen, she watched helplessly as Benedikt stood before her, taking her hand in his.

“You may not remember our last encounter,” he said, eyes half-lidded but unnervingly intent, “but I do.”

“I’ve met a lot of suitors in my day,” Dorothea said, voice brittle. “Obviously I can only remember the ones who stand out.”

Benedikt’s smile faltered for just a moment, twisting into a sneer before righting itself.

“I meant what I told you back then, about you being beautiful enough for me to want to settle down with you.”

“Are you sure you don’t just want me for my eyes?”

“I will admit, they are lovely.” His eyes slowly panned down her face and rested on her chest. “Though I wouldn’t say they’re my favorite part of you.”

_ My wives would gut you for that comment, _ Dorothea wanted to say. It was true--Edelgard and Satomi had started more duels for Dorothea’s honor in recent memory than there had been battles in the war.

“You do know I’m already married,” she forced out instead, flexing her left hand to show off her rings. A custom-made golden one from Edelgard and Jeralt’s wedding band from Satomi.

“Oh don’t worry about that,” Benedikt said, reaching forward to brush some of Dorothea’s hair behind her ear. “It will be taken care of. And don’t fret, I’ll treat you as if you’re a virgin.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You aren’t allowed to refuse.”

“But if I do?”

“Then there will be consequences.” Benedikt impatiently tapped a finger on his belt. “Are you prepared for that?”

_ Manuela isn’t here to save you this time. You have to do this yourself. _

“If it means I don’t have to marry you, then yes.” Dorothea drew a deep breath and straightened her back. “I’d rather die.”

Benedikt studied her for a moment or two, as if waiting for her to laugh and tell him she was just kidding. Finally, he shook his head.

“So this is how it has to be, then. How sad.”

He waved at the Order Members.

“Take her back to your dungeons and do with her what you will.”

“My lord, what about the--”

“You have your gathering place, you should be happy.” Benedikt turned and began to walk down the long hallway of the Charon mansion before pausing. “Though, if she does happen to break and become more agreeable, then please let me know.”

“I promise you that won’t happen,” Dorothea said, hoping desperately her knees wouldn’t give out at this moment.

Benedikt laughed again, a light, cruel tone, and ran his fingers through his brunette hair.

“In fact, let me know when you’re about done. Even if you have to ruin her pretty little face, I’d still like a go at her before it’s over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, it is my headcanon that the dude from Ingrid's paralogue is Dorothea's probably dad, and I'm sticking by it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can has little a cliched plot device.  
As a treat.

“So I know you don’t particularly like to talk about it,” Ingrid said, voice barely audible over the roar of rushing air, “but do you really think Dorothea’s okay?”

Edelgard gripped Seig’s reins, guiding him around a jutting mountain rock.

“Um, Edelgard?”

“Ingrid.”

“Yes?”

“Do you not feel upset at all?”

"About Dorothea being captured? Of course I’m upset. She’s my best friend! Or one of them anyway.” Ingrid squirmed on the back of the saddle. “And I’m not just saying that because sometimes we share a bed. You should know that that’s purely physical. Like when you all include me in your roleplays and whatnot. I don’t have any designs on trying to steal her or anyth--”

“I meant about visiting Faerghus.”

“Oh.” The arms around Edelgard’s middle relaxed. “A bit, I suppose.”

“If I were in your position, I’d feel extremely conflicted,” Edelgard said, scanning the horizon.

“Honestly, I try not to think about it.”

“Surprising. I’ve always seen you as such a woman of principle.”

“I still consider myself to be. Principles were what led me to join you, and if we’re talking honestly, why Sylvain and Felix came too. You were right--the whole system was rotten all the way down.”

Edelgard blinked away the moisture building in her eyes. They always watered when flying at high speed.

“Still, it had to be difficult for you.”

“I’ve...not made my peace with it, necessarily, but it’s not anyone’s fault. Not yours, not his.” The weight of Ingrid’s chin settled into Edelgard’s shoulder. “Sometimes life is like that. Tragic.”

With a _ hmm, _ Edelgard watched the sun begin to slip behind the jagged peaks of the Oghma Mountains. 

“It’s almost dark. We should make camp.”

A growl erupted from Ingrid’s stomach, sending a vibration through Edelgard’s back.

“Thank the Goddess,” Ingrid said, voice suddenly bright. “I’m worried, don’t get me wrong, but we don’t know what we’re going into here and we’ll need to be rested and fed if we want to face it.”

Seig gently touched down in a small valley covered in mossy grass. A clear stream trickled from further up the mountain, beside which was a compact enclave in the rock.

Ingrid gathered brush from the edges of the valley for kindling while Edelgard unwrapped some of the raw goat she’d brought for Seig. 

“You’ve done a wonderful job today,” she told him, rubbing his nose before stepping away to allow him to tear into the meat. “Enjoy your meal and then get some rest. I fear we may see battle tomorrow.”

By the time Edelgard entered the cave, Ingrid had already unpacked the saddlebag she’d taken off Bukkenade, and laid out an assortment of breads, cheeses, and cured meats before the fire she’d started.

“This is far too much for just the two of us,” Edelgard said, settling into a cross-legged position by the fire.

“Well, I mean I packed enough for five of us, and we don’t want it to go bad, do we?”

“This food is specifically prepared to travel well and keep for long periods.”

Ingrid shrugged. “More for us, then.” 

She dug through the saddlebag, producing two waterskins.

“Now, Your Majesty, would you prefer water?” Ingrid held up the waterskin in her left hand for a moment before dropping it and holding up the other. “Or wine?” 

“...Wine.”

Ingrid grinned and uncorked the top, holding it to Edelgard. “Royalty first.”

“You’ve spent how many years in my service, and you think I’d abide by that?”

“True, true,” Ingrid said, tilting her head back to take a deep swig. She wiped her mouth on her arm and thrust the waterskin in Edelgard’s direction. “Edelgard von Hresvelg, the Common Man’s Emperor. First into battle and last to be served dinner.”

“Precisely. See that my name is not besmirched.” Edelgard tipped the wine into her mouth. It tasted sour and putrid, reminding her of the residual taste left on her tongue that time Hubert hadn’t ventilated properly when developing a new strain of poison. She coughed. “How long has this been fermenting?”

“No idea. I got it from Alois, who got it from Shamir, who got it from Manuela.”

Edelgard cleared her throat to take another pull before handing the wine back to Ingrid. 

“Cheers,” she said.

*** * ***

In about an hour, the wine and the food was gone, save for a few stray crumbs and droplets that had fallen near the edge of the fire.

“I mean...it’s not like I didn’t know you or anything,” Ingrid slurred, “you lived with us for what, four years?”

“Three years,” Edelgard corrected.

“Sure, yes. That sounds more correct.” She waved a hand in the air. “Anyway, it’s not like I was running off with a stranger or anything.”

“Your...connections from home seemed rather wounded by the decision.”

“You aren’t wrong, but… You need to understand, I just… I couldn’t do it anymore. The whole...cycle. I needed to get out of there, and I needed things to change, and he wasn’t going to change them, not in the state he was in, but you were and I…”

Ingrid leaned into Edelgard, resting her head on her shoulder. “I couldn’t even tell him the truth, in the end. About Glenn and me.”

Edelgard’s muscles stiffened. She felt Ingrid’s arm wrap around hers.

“We tried, you know. We really did. We both knew that it would break our parents’ hearts to find out, and we swore even once it became obvious that it wasn’t going to work out that we’d still go through with the marriage.”

Ingrid reached over to toy with the clasp of Edelgard’s collar.

“We were so stupid, back then. We thought that as long as we got to be knights, as long as we were still close, partners in the guard, it’d be enough. That our suffering would mean something. Piety, or loyalty, or discipline, or some rubbish like that. We wouldn’t upset our parents, or Felix, or the royal family. We were being selfless.”

Ingrid fell silent, watching the fire. Edelgard felt an ache in the center of her shoulder blades.

“And then he died. Like an idiot.”

“Losing someone close to you is always difficult,” Edelgard said. The words came out sharper than she’d intended.

“It took me a long time, you know? A long time to finally just let myself have what I wanted. And even when I did, it felt so unfair, so selfish. There I was, in someone’s arms for the first time, and poor Glenn was rotting away in his hero’s grave.”

_ Was it with Dorothea? _Edelgard wanted to ask. She chewed her bottom lip.

“Ingrid, I’m sorry,” she said instead.

“It’s not your fault.” Ingrid sighed. “At least when I told Felix he took some comfort in it. He always looked up to Glenn, you know. It was nice, in a way. To know they shared that part of themselves.”

Edelgard blinked, her sight hazy and shimmering. She remembered peeking through the door into her eldest sister’s bedroom, seeing her embrace her vassal Jaroslava the way her father did to their mothers.

“I can certainly relate,” she said.

Ingrid nuzzled Edelgard’s shoulder, as if trying to get comfortable.

“You’re so lucky, you know,” she said. “To have Dorothea and Satomi.”

Edelgard forced the thought _ I have neither of them at the moment _from her mind.

“I am. I truly am.”

“As for me, well. It’s hard sometimes to distinguish whether I’m perpetually partnerless because no one wants me, or because on some level I’m still serving penance for Glenn.”

The crackling of the fire filled the next few minutes. Edelgard watched their shadows twist and dance on the far wall of the cave, her mind feeling dull and heavy.

She cleared her throat.

“Since I don’t know what we will face tomorrow, I suppose I should tell you this now.”

“Hm?”

“This is something I’ve only ever told Satomi, though upon reflection I will likely share it with Dorothea as well, provided we all survive this adventure.”

Ingrid sat up and turned toward Edelgard, her expression serious. Edelgard kept her gaze at the glowing embers at the heart of the fire.

“This is the story of my first love. I realize now that I’ve experienced the genuine thing that it wasn’t love in the true sense, but regardless it was the first time I felt a flutter within me at the sight of someone else.”

Ingrid said nothing but leaned in on her unsteady forearm.

“It was at a ball, in Fhirdiad. There...there was this person. We didn’t even speak, but the sight of them sent this tremor through me, the likes of which I’d never felt before.”

Nodding, Ingrid whispered, “Yes, yes.” Her acidic breath washed over Edelgard’s face.

“This flaxen-haired beauty looked like a painting, or a statue brought to life.” Edelgard shuddered. “It gave me chills. I thought about the image for weeks afterward.”

Ingrid sat back on her heels with a hum. 

“Did you ever speak again?”

“We did, yes. Later. We became acquainted.”

“Did I know them?”

“Quite intimately, yes.”

Ingrid looked toward the ground for a long moment, tapping her fingers against her thighs.

“Well, I suppose you weren’t related by blood, so…”

“_ Ingrid! _” Edelgard cried, snapping her head to look at her with alarm. “No. Way off the mark.”

“But--”

“Never mind, you tow-headed ox,” Edelgard grumbled. She wrapped her cloak around her and turned toward the opposite wall, sliding to the ground. “Good night.”

Ingrid sat, staring at the back of Edelgard’s cape, while the fire burned down. After several minutes, she reached up to take hold of a lock of her own hair.

*** * ***

Edelgard had already cleaned up their campsite and re-saddled Seig by the time Ingrid awoke with a groan and stumbled out of the cave. 

“Glad to see you decided to join me,” Edelgard said without looking in Ingrid’s direction. “How did you sleep?”

“Horribly. Did we drink all of that wine?”

“See for yourself.”

Ingrid bent down to pick up the waterskin, tipping it over toward the ground. Only a few tiny drops splattered onto the grass below.

“I guess that explains why I don’t remember any of last night.”

Edelgard paused for a moment in securing Seig’s bridle before resuming.

“I would have thought you were stronger in the drink than that,” she said. “Satomi is always bragging about how her knights can drink any others under the table.”

“For usual ale and spirits, sure, but that was Casagranda Cabernet. I’m fairly certain it was enchanted.”

“It must be, considering how much I drank and how clear my head is.” Edelgard put one foot in the stirrup and swung her other leg over Seig’s back.

“Speak for yourself,” Ingrid said, hauling herself into the saddle behind Edelgard. “I didn’t do anything too embarrassing last night, did I?”

Edelgard closed her eyes for a moment, letting the images in her head swim behind her eyelids.

“No. In fact, you were rather charming.”

“I’m glad.” Ingrid wrapped her arms around Edelgard’s waist. “I don’t want to go into today with regrets.”

“We’ll be in Charon by pre-dawn tomorrow,” Edelgard said, twisting around in the saddle to face Ingrid. “Have you prepared yourself for whatever we may face?”

“I have, Your Majesty.” Ingrid’s confident smile faltered, giving way to a look of concern. “Have you?”

Edelgard turned back around with a noncommittal shrug.

Only a day now stood between her and knowing Dorothea’s fate. Blood pounded through Edelgard’s entire body, making her giddy. 

Would Dorothea still be alive?

Would she still be sane?

A cold dread clawed at Edelgard’s throat, but she swallowed it.

No matter what, by tomorrow morning, she would know, and then the appropriate steps could be taken.

_ I’m coming dearest, _ Edelgard thought as Seig surged upwards into the clear sky. _ Please, hold on. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is yet another headcanon you will take from my cold, dead hands.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work has been testing me, but hey, have some Wives!
> 
> There's some pretty heavy classist/misogynistic comments, some implied torture, and a few indirect references to rape in this chapter from the villains, just FYI.
> 
> Don't mind me while I grumble about how the prose is just not pliable enough for me here, but sometimes you just need to excise shit from your soul, you know?

Dorothea had no memory of meeting Manuela. 

Apparently she'd been found in the alley behind the theater, wheezing and shivering in the cold rain, when Manuela had stepped out to get a breath of fresh air after a show. 

Dorothea's lungs had been full of fluid, Manuela told her, and she'd had to work tirelessly through the night to keep her from slipping out of this world and into the Goddess's embrace. It was touch and go for quite some time, so the story went, healing magic continuously at her fingertips. The first time Manuela had been able to stop casting, dawn had already begun to shine through the windows of her dressing room. 

While she often referred to the whole affair in a flippant way, noting how that was the only cast party she ever missed, Dorothea knew that if anyone other than Manuela had found her that night, she'd never have lived to see morning. 

There were times when she wondered if that wouldn't have been kinder. 

It was raining outside. Dorothea could hear the rhythmic splatting of water above her, near the dungeon's tiny, barred window. 

Normally she loved rain; there was nothing sweeter than being wrapped in her wives' arms in bed, humming in time to the wet pitter-patter on the castle windows.

Dorothea closed her eyes and tried to imagine that she was resting on the mattress at the palace, silken sheets draped over her. Satomi would be finishing up the guards' drills for the day. Edelgard would be poring over law records in the library. 

All it would take would be a handful of words. The ring of a bell to summon a servant to deliver the message. 

"I want you," would be the only thing she'd have to say, and the Emperor and Captain would be beside her in a moment. Edelgard and Satomi's warmth would press against her skin, and for a few fleeting moments, Dorothea could feel content. 

It was so tragic that she was about to die.

She would have liked to enjoy marital bliss just a bit longer. 

Soft murmuring wafted into her cell from the corridor, announcing that her captors were on the move. Would they finally present their ideas for inventive new torture methods, or would she languish here in the gloom for yet another day? 

Honestly, Dorothea couldn't tell which was worse. 

At least physical pain would be a distraction from the fact that she hadn't been rescued.

_ Yet, _ Dorothea reminded herself. _ They haven't rescued me _ ** _yet._ **

Sothis love them, they took their time, but they had come through before. Years of quietly managed pain during school, during the war, after… It had all been worth it to feel both Satomi and Edelgard hold her by the hand in the royal garden and announce their love for her. 

Even Edelgard's clumsy proclamation about their marriage several days ago had been as deeply charming as it had been embarrassing. 

"They love me," Dorothea whispered. "They love me and they're coming."

*** * ***

A soreness had seeped into Edelgard's shoulders from leaning forward on Seig's back. Ingrid, initially chatty and jovial, had fallen silent the further north they proceeded. 

“Edelgard,” she finally said, her fingers drumming against Edelgard’s stomach. “What… What happens if…”

“If we’re too late?”

“...Yes.”

Edelgard drew a deep breath, the way Hubert made her when she was at the mercy of her own panic, and held it. After counting to ten, she exhaled through her lips and answered.

“I don’t know.”

“That makes sense.” Ingrid shifted, her armor scraping against Edelgard’s. “I don’t know how I’d react either. I think I might just lose it.”

“In grief, or in anger?”

“In grief. Heh, I never even considered anger, but that makes sense coming from you.” 

“I suppose so.”

“Will you kill them? If they’re there?”

“It depends on the circumstances. Left to my own devices, yes. Every one of them would perish swiftly under my blade, but...well. If Dorothea lives, she’ll likely keep me from slaughtering the lot of them like the vermin they are.”

It had only taken days, when they’d held a celebration at the palace after announcing their marriage to Dorothea. That was how long it took for the fat, slimy maggots that had infested the aristocracy to start grousing about Dorothea’s sudden spike in status.

At first, Edelgard hadn’t noticed. She’d been fielding congratulations from various attendees at the party when Satomi had come to her, mentioning that Dorothea seemed out of sorts. At first, Edelgard had worried that Dorothea was still feeling awkward after the marriage proclamation, but when she’d gone to her newest wife to speak to her, the issue had seemed deeper. Dorothea had denied everything, of course, and offered that smile she used whenever she was pretending to not be bothered by something twisting in her gut. 

The same smile Edelgard knew so well from the war. Especially in the later years, after Satomi had returned.

So she’d done a little reconnaissance, and discovered two young lords trading bawdy comments about her wife’s body, along with unsavory assumptions about why she and Satomi had married her.

Ah, how alarmed they’d looked when she’d inserted herself into their conversation! Hubert had assured her afterward that everyone who had borne witness to it had indeed found her retort as scathing as a fire spell.

Edelgard had challenged both men to a duel right then and there, in the courtyard outside the ballroom. While she’d intended to cleave them both in two with her axe, Dorothea had intervened to insist on no bloodshed, and so instead, Edelgard had pummeled them both purple with her fists.

Satomi had been very disappointed to have been left out, but she’d promptly participated in another duel for Dorothea’s honor the following day. Given that Dorothea hadn’t known about it until afterward, Satomi’s opponents had not fared so fortunately.

With a start, she realized Ingrid had begun speaking again.

“I can’t imagine she’d want you to kill them either. She’s pretty resolute on that point.”

“She is.”

“But if she isn’t there to stop you?”

“Then the ground will run red.”

“And then?”

Edelgard didn’t answer. The words were there, fully formed, but she pressed her teeth together to keep them trapped.

Instead, she focused on urging Seig to speed up. Save for a few stops to allow for rest or food, they’d been barreling toward Charon for nearly an entire day. As the night had worn on, it had begun to rain--at first a light drizzle, but slowly gaining in severity. 

It wasn’t as if Edelgard believed nature to be sympathetic. She’d let go of silly notions like that a long time ago, when she’d finally released her grip on Heidelinde’s corpse. 

Still, she could feel anxiety prickle behind her eyes.

Edelgard knew exactly what would happen if they arrived too late to save Dorothea.

_ I will break. _

*** * ***

Dorothea hadn’t tasted the metallic tang of her own blood since the war.

Back then it had felt as if she'd been continuously bounced between the rough kiss of a blade or bludgeon, and the soothing comfort of her friends' healing. 

Perhaps that explained the nostalgic tinge to her torture. 

These mages weren't doing anything possibly fatal--at least not yet--but the uninterrupted haze of white magic rolling over her did little to soften the sharp pain from their blows. Healing could preemptively stop the bruises and cuts from forming, but that was where its utility ended. 

Perhaps it would be more bearable if Dorothea's faith hadn't been so lacking. 

Between the explosions of pain, she thought of her wives' bodies, riddled with scars. 

Most of Satomi's were shallow cuts from her youth, before she started properly heeding Jeralt in battle. Each came with a grin and an anecdote that revealed the cozy, rustic upbringing she’d had (aside from a single deep gash between her shoulder blades, one that suspiciously looked to be from an axe, that was never discussed). 

Edelgard, meanwhile, kept her scars hidden, wrapped up under expensive fabrics and the finest needlework gold could buy. The first time Dorothea had been allowed to see them was well after their first time in bed together. And even then, she hadn't heard about their origin until the war began, when Edelgard had let her run her fingertips over the marks, as if they were piano keys. Of course, Dorothea had already known what the scars were from--everyone in Adrestria did--but it had been nice to hear it from Edelgard herself. 

Which of them would Dorothea be like? 

On the edge of her perception, she heard the mage who had just been kicking her in the ribs sigh. 

"Enough of this."

The cool relief of white magic receded as the mage tasked with healing her dropped his arms. 

"What do you mean?" 

"We're wasting time. Call Lord Benedikt and tell him to arrive at sunset today."

"We're stopping already?! But the Emperor hasn't even been spotted yet." 

"Francis. She's not coming."

Dorothea bit back a groan. 

"That can't be right. She just made a big deal about marrying--" 

"Of course she did. She's 'the People's Emperor', remember? Of course she'd want to show off her refined street whore and parade her around like a show pony."

The mage nudged Dorothea with her foot.

"In reality, she probably has an entire harem of ex-starlets at her castle, she's just too good to admit it."

_ That isn't true, _ Dorothea tried to scream, but it manifested as a gurgle. 

"Do you really think she'd marry a commoner to make a point?" 

"Never underestimate the Mad Hresvelg, my son," came a gruff voice from the direction of the doorway. 

"She must be insane then, seeing as she already had a commoner wife. Why would she need another to make a statement?"

Someone else near the doorway sneered. "Because there's a world of difference between a knight bloodline and…that."

"Few people decried her marriage to the Captain. Her father was a first class knight, and she herself was a hero in the war."

"But Ms. Arnault fought in the war, too. And she may not be of noble birth, but she was the star of the Mittelfrank Opera for years, and was at the Emperor's side when the Archbishop fell."

"My son. You must realize that if this were merely about Emperor Edelgard's…_ preferences, _ this would not be an issue. Plenty of nobles have taken former Mittelfrank stars as mistresses or concubines."

"Why do you think the Casagranda woman never married?" 

"Exactly. Who's going to buy a pie everyone's already stuck their fingers into?" 

Dorothea dug her nails into the chain running from her wrists down her back, a low growl rumbling in her throat. 

"How is Lord Benedikt any different? He wanted to marry her."

"Yes, now that she's worth something, thanks to the empty-headed knave on the throne."

"The issue, my dear Francis, is that the Mad Hresvelg has plucked this lowborn wench from the gutter and elevated her above the rest of us in status. By law, she now outranks all of us, who have earned our titles through generations of careful breeding."

"Imagine if they had a child!" shrieked a high pitched voice from elsewhere in the room. “We could end up with a mongrel bastard as our future emperor!” 

"This woman is a symbol, nothing more." The gruff-voiced man sighed. "We took a gamble on the Emperor carrying the charade far enough to make her valuable bait, but it seems we were mistaken."

"Her Majesty had to know she was putting a target on her back with that announcement," said another voice. "This one was always meant to be replaced."

"I just don't know," Francis said. "It's only been about a day or two since we took her to the Charon estate. It just seems like it's too soon to say."

Dorothea felt a twinge of soreness in her chest. _ Frankie, please. Stop defending me and get on with it. I can't listen to this anymore. _

They were wrong, of course. Completely and totally wrong--Edelgard cared so little for titles and lineage that granting Dorothea status as an insult never would have even occurred to her. 

How could these bitter nobles know? They hadn't felt Edelgard's arm around their waists, holding them steady in the face of the Immaculate One's fang-riddled maw. They hadn't seen her toss her axe aside to dive at them and shield them from incoming fire with her own body. They hadn't watched her drop to one knee before them, looking up with unsure hope, and let years of pent-up feelings for them spill out of her. None of them had heard Edelgard, voice vulnerable and brittle, say "I love you. I always have."

They didn't know how it really was. 

…So why did their words still hurt? 

Dorothea pictured herself in her dressing room at the theater, staring into her own eyes in the mirror and saying similarly cruel things at her own reflection. 

They were wrong. 

She had been wrong. 

"Francis, you…didn't know about the plan, did you?" 

"What plan?" 

A gentle chuckle. "The breadcrumbs."

Dorothea felt her mouth go dry. 

"I'm sorry, I don't…" Francis said. 

"We left clues, my son. Key pieces of information, dropped carefully enough to reveal a path, but not arouse Lord Vestra's suspicion."

"No," Dorothea whispered. 

"Hired the loudest braggarts we could find to do the kidnapping. Had them leave traces of magic suppressing potion behind at the theater, and use a man-drawn cart that would be easy to follow. 

"That, combined with some rumors being released about our operations and motives, would lead them to investigate Morgaine Ravine. On the way, they'd run into Christin, who was instructed to send them to Charon. He was under strict orders to only reveal information to the Emperor herself. We wanted to avoid other interruptions, of course."

"So…there's no way the Emperor and Captain could possibly not find us…unless they were grossly incompetent, or not really looking."

"The Mad Hresvelg is many things, but incompetent is not one of them."

"Same for the Captain."

The laughter that followed burned like acid.

Dorothea had been wrong. 

Edelgard and Satomi did care.

Just not enough to come for her. 

There was a world of difference between a knight's heir and her. The former was entitled to resolute faith in her survival and ceaseless searching during a war, without even the most meager of leads, for five years. 

Dorothea wasn't worth enough to warrant a few days' journey north during peacetime, the path to her lighted by torches. 

They'd likely had a small, quiet funeral for her by now. Perhaps held each other for comfort for a few moments, bemoaned how things had played out. If only there had been something they could have done! 

And then life would return to normal.

Just the two of them.

Dorothea's throat burned, tears pooling in her eyes.

She should have kicked the stool away and not answered the door when Satomi knocked.

She should have stayed face down in the mud of the Tailtean Plains.

She should have been left to her fate in the alley behind the theater.

One of the mages was now giving Francis instructions--keep her alive, but don’t close up the wounds, Lord Benedikt will want to see them--while another carried a large iron cage wrapped in mesh. She summoned a flame in her palm and held it to the metal, eliciting shrill, panicked screeches from within. It was a sound Dorothea knew well, even if she hadn’t heard it in years.

Rats. 

She didn’t resist when two mages seized her shoulders to hold her upright. She didn’t struggle when another took hold of her chin to keep her steady.

There was a trap opening, Dorothea realized, on the bottom of the cage. Satomi had shown her once how it worked: place bait inside a small box, then wait for the animal to stick its head inside to get at it. The small door was designed to only open one way--once the animal tried to withdraw its head, it would find itself stuck, the hinged triangles digging into its neck. As it began to panic and thrash, the points would bury themselves deeper, pushing chances of escape even further away.

A cruel trick, forcing her into a hunting trap. Not very sporting at all.

“If I were you,” the mage before her said, lowering the rat cage toward Dorothea’s head, “I’d keep my eyes and mouth closed.”

Dorothea exhaled, emptying her lungs as much as she could, and closed her eyes.

Picturing her wives now wouldn’t bring any comfort, but the least she could do would be to protect the one scrap of legacy her mother had given her. Even if it wouldn’t matter in the end.

Dorothea did not remember that first night when Manuela had held onto her soul so tightly that the Goddess herself couldn’t claim her, but she did remember the prayer Manuela had taught her after.

_ Holy Mother, thou art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. _

“Remember, my son, keep her alive, but let the vermin have their way with her face.”

_ I call on thee in my final hour. _

“What a shame. She is awfully pretty.”

_ Grant me peace. _

“Why don’t _ you _ marry her then?”

_ Grant me comfort. _

“I can’t believe Lord Benedikt is still going to want to have her after this.”

_ Grant me courage. _

“We’ll provide a burlap sack or something he can use to hide her head if needed.”

_ Welcome me home, to where I belong. _

“Say, do you think he’d notice if we had a quick taste ourselves first?”

_ Hold me to thy divine breast, _

“Now you’re onto something! Maybe see what the fuss is all about? What drew the Emperor in?”

_ and then I shall rest, in your embrace. _

“**_Stop._**”

The room froze, as if that single word had coated everything in frost.

Eyes still closed, a shudder trickled down Dorothea’s spine.

“Unhand my wife.”

A sob spilled from Dorothea’s lips, her eyes snapping open to look toward the door of the dungeon cell.

Edelgard’s hair was mussed, frizzy and spilling out of her buns in a way Dorothea had never seen before. Scorch marks and dents punctuated the surface of her crimson armor, dark splotches of blood smeared across her arms, face, and breastplate. She appeared to be unarmed, no sign of an axe or sword anywhere.

In the distance, she could hear urgent shouts and cries.

“Edel-chan…you’re here…”

“I’m so sorry, dearest. I should have been here sooner.” Edelgard took a shaky step forward. “They haven’t hurt you too badly, have they?”

“I… I thought…”

“Stand down, Your Majesty,” the gruff-voiced mage ordered. “Your beloved wife is at our mercy.”

“Unless you want your property damaged, I suggest you back off.”

Edelgard’s eyes hardened, the skin around them pulling taut. 

“What did you just call Dorothea?”

“Easy now, Your Imperial Majesty. One wrong move and this cage might just slip out of my hands and onto your little bitch’s head.”

Edelgard’s clenched fists trembled at her sides, but her lips remained still.

“Good. Now we can properly negotiate--”

“Do it to me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Do it to me instead.” Edelgard gestured to the cage. “I’m the one you want, right? You’re angry with me for holding the aristocracy to task, no?”

“Edel-chan, no! It’s full of--”

“I don’t care what it’s full of, Dorothea! It could be a cage full of starving rats and I will gladly wear it if it means you go free!”

“It… It is rats…”

Edelgard’s left eye twitched and she drew a shaky breath.

“My answer does not change. Take me instead.”

Dorothea opened her mouth to argue, but the mages roughly shoved her aside. They had encircled Edelgard now, who did not look the least bit concerned at being surrounded.

For a brief moment, watching Edelgard march forward resolutely and kneel before the mage holding the rat cage in her hands, Dorothea could see the Emperor as the people knew her. For once, Edelgard was not her neurotic confidant, not her tender, self-conscious lover, not her eccentric fellow artist. She was the regal and awe-inspiring symbol of hope and strength of Adrestria, of Fodlan.

Someone at the very top of the social food chain, who embodied what the nobility was supposed to, who had everything she could possibly want in life.

And she was throwing it all away for a nobody orphan who’d had to sell her body to not starve.

The Order was right; Edelgard must have been mad.

Dorothea struggled to free her hands, watching helplessly as several mages swarmed her wife, lest she try to escape. 

“Our dearest Imperial Sovereign,” said the mage, lifting the rat cage up as if it were a priceless relic, “allow me to crown you with what you deserve.”

“Dorothea,” Edelgard said, her voice firm. “I meant what I said when I married you.”

“Edel-chan, please… Do something!”

“Forgive me for leaving you behind, dearest. Give my love to Satomi as well. And...please take care of Hubert.”

“_El!_”

The mage standing in front of Edelgard let out a grunt and dropped the rat cage to the floor. She staggered backwards and fell back against the wall, a sharpened piece of wood buried deep into her abdomen.

“Edelgard, there you are!” Ingrid jogged into the room, swatting mages aside with her lance. “Look, I know I have pretty high magic resistance, but you can’t just run off like that!”

“Sir Ingrid," Edelgard said, rising to her feet, "keep your senses sharp and do not neglect your duty of protecting the Empress Consort.”

“The… You found her?!”

Dorothea cleared her throat. “Long time no see, Grid-chan.”

“Dorothea! You’re alive! You’re--!”

“Sir Ingrid. Your duty.”

“Sorry, Your Majesty.” Ingrid offered a salute before whipping around and catching an approaching mage on her lance. 

Edelgard rushed to Dorothea, picking her up gently. 

“Are you hurt?”

“No. Well, yes, but not physically. I think.” Dorothea sucked in air with a hiss and winced. “Yes, actually. I think I may be more hurt than I realize.”

Edelgard brushed Dorothea’s hair from her face, an expression of concern tugging at her features. 

“I’m so sorry.”

“Now’s not the time, honey. Let’s go, please.”

With a nod, Edelgard hugged Dorothea tighter and followed after Ingrid, who had begun cutting a path through the scurrying mages. The sun had begun to peek over the horizon as the rain had slackened, bathing the foothills in warm orange light. Once the sting faded from Dorothea’s eyes, she noted that this was actually a rather picturesque part of the Oghma Mountains.

“My Lady,” Ingrid called over her shoulder, “prepare yourself for an onslaught!”

No longer able to take advantage of surprise and darkness, a barrage of spells rained down on them. Ingrid’s armor deflected most damage, and Edelgard kept both herself and Dorothea wrapped in the cape she’d had Manuela enchant all the way back at the start of the war.

“Your axe,” Dorothea said, touching Edelgard’s empty right hand.

“I have more at home.”

Dorothea pressed her face into Edelgard’s neck, trying to focus on the thrum of her blood instead of the death cries of the mages Ingrid was impaling ahead of them.

It was too similar to the scenes she saw in her nightmares. She didn’t regret fighting with Edelgard and Satomi for what was right, but it had only been about two years or so since the war ended, and here she was, right back in the thick of it.

Dorothea could feel her breath begin to rattle, a growing sense of panic blooming from her heart. She clung more tightly to Edelgard, as she always had back then. She felt a firm squeeze from Edelgard’s arms in response, and her racing heart relaxed. 

This wasn’t a war. It was a one-off battle that erupted when her wife had come to save her.

Things were different now.

Dorothea concentrated on humming in time to Edelgard’s pulse. She was halfway through “Hail the Crimson Liberator” when she saw Seig irritably flapping his wings and clawing at guards with his feet. 

“Where’s Bukkenade?” she asked as Edelgard whistled and Seig glided over to meet them.

“With Hubert, a ways back,” Ingrid said, handing Dorothea up to Edelgard once she’d mounted Seig’s back. “I wasn't able to fly myself, so I’ve been riding with Edelgard since the Milkteeth.”

“You’re injured?”

“Not badly, don’t worry.” Ingrid grinned and hopped into the saddle behind them. “Let’s focus on you for now, okay?”

“I’ll make this up to you,” Dorothea said, and a deep red blush engulfed Ingrid’s face.

“Dearest,” Edelgard said, drawing her attention back. “Hold on tightly. We’ll need to move swiftly to go meet up with Hubert. As we are, we cannot hold off much more direct aggression. We need reinforcements.”

Seig lifted off, curving around one of the taller hills to hide them from view. The commotion surrounding The Order’s base faded, leaving them only with the hissing of the wind.

“Darling,” Dorothea whispered, touching Edelgard’s cheek. “Where is Satomi? Is she with Hugh?”

A pained expression crossed Edelgard’s face.

“I… I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“She went missing in the course of the search for you, and has yet to be located.”

“But you’ve looked?”

“No, not yet.” Edelgard’s gaze fell toward her side. “I know how that must sound, but you must understand that the priority was finding you. We had a lead for that and there just wasn’t time to--”

“El,” Dorothea said, not bothering to stop the tears that had begun to gush down her cheeks, “thank you.”

Edelgard met her gaze; all the trappings of the Emperor had fallen away, leaving behind the passionate, highly-strung woman Dorothea had fallen in love with back at Garreg Mach.

How was it possible for Dorothea's heart to feel so full and heavy?

Edelgard hadn’t expected Dorothea to lunge upward to kiss her, but fortunately Ingrid was able to grab Seig’s reins in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had decided pretty early on that there was going to be a climatic moment where Edelgard shows that she's a woman of principle and could easily beat out that weenie ass Winston Smith from 1984, but it feels sort of surreal now that I've actually written it.
> 
> Also blah blah pianos are anachronistic, sorry.
> 
> While this might be a climatic moment, this is not the final climax of this story!  
We're all about multiple climaxes here, if you couldn't tell.


End file.
